


Intangible hearts

by oswinosgoodsscarf



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Canon Non-Binary Character, Hugs, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Past Character Death, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Uses They/Them Pronouns, Touch-Starved, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22201822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oswinosgoodsscarf/pseuds/oswinosgoodsscarf
Summary: If they stood far enough away, they could almost pretend it was real, and pretend to still have Alistair (brilliant, funny, warm Alistair) in their life again.
Relationships: The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart
Comments: 9
Kudos: 11





	Intangible hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a conversation with Lion_owl, i felt the need to write sad yearning fic for this lovely pairing! It would mean a lot if you let me know you enjoyed by leaving kudos or a comment, thanks!

If they didn't move, they could almost pretend he was real. The sound of his voice, the way his hair fell, the smile in his eyes and the dry wit were all there, preserved perfectly, exactly how he appeared in their dreams. It was all there, and yet-

Alistair was never a very tactile person, preferring to show a mask of professionalism to the world, along with everything else that meant. But no matter how stiffly he carried himself, Alistair was always so warm, always radiating body heat. Every time they stood near him, or hauled him to safety, the Doctor could feel the warmth of the human's body sinking into his bones. (The first time they kissed him, it felt like fire was scorching their lips, and every caress and grasping hold felt like banked embers, waiting to be stoked into a beautiful, blistering flame that would consume them both.)

But a hologram is just a projection, an imitation of reality, lacking the solidity and material to really _be_. No matter how realistic, how life-like it was, the cold they felt as they stood in front of a projection of their dead lover was a cruel reminder of what they had lost. The Doctor closed their eyes, fighting against the oncoming tears. No matter how much they craved it, _needed_ it, there could be no more steadying shoulder-clasps, or guiding hands on their back, or embraces that made them feel so safe and secure; secure in the knowledge that a man like Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart did not break a promise, so when he said that he loved them, he meant it, and he said he would be there for them for as long as he lived, it felt like forever. (They pushed down the guilt they felt over running from him, in the end; they were too much of a coward to watch the life drain from their love, not after all the goodbyes they've had to say.)

They opened their eyes, watching Alistair stare bemusedly back at them, the twist of his lips ready to form a quip at their expense; his hair moved minutely as he breathed and his mustache twitched. The Doctor lifted their hand, ever so slightly, millimeters away from the hologram. The air was too cold and the projection didn't smell like him (the scent they had memorized from endless moments of quiet intimacy and countless hugs), but they pretended for a moment anyway, grasping at their own hand and pretending that they could recreate the sparks that trailed beneath their skin when Alistair touched them. The hologram flickered as the Doctor's hand moved, and the tears they had been suppressing escaped as they stared at the imitation of their long-dead love.

The illusion was broken, and all that was left for the Doctor was the cold, empty air and their own arms wrapped around their middle, trying to recreate what was long gone and keep themselves from falling apart in the absence. 


End file.
